


Death and Pizza

by TheBookwormBakery



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe- GTA, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Immortal Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-06
Packaged: 2018-04-19 07:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4738592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBookwormBakery/pseuds/TheBookwormBakery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being part of a crew that doesn't stay dead has its benefits and its downsides. The benefits: you can worry a lot less about whether everyone will survive the heist. The downsides? You forget that you're not immortal, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Death and Pizza

“EAT LEAD, BITCHES!” Michael roared, swinging his minigun in a wide arc as bullets sprayed into the line of police cars across the street. He could see Ryan in his peripheral vision, doing the same thing. His pulse thudded loudly in his ears, providing a drumbeat to accent his gun’s staccato mayhem. Ray was inside the store with Gavin, for once not on a roof somewhere as the sniper. Jack was a block or so away with the getaway ride, a tricked-out armored car, and Geoff… well, Geoff was _supposed_ to have been delaying the cops by causing trouble elsewhere, but Michael was beginning to think he was just hiding in a bar somewhere. Michael had half a mind to kill him a little, just for that. Geoff wasn’t even on the same comm channel—that reeked of attempting to avoid the others.

Ryan was mowed down by a hail of LSPD bullets, and Michael cursed. “Gavin, get your ass out here! Ryan’s down!”

“Great, leave the sniper to hold up the store on his own. That’s a real smart thing to do,” Ray muttered from inside the store.

“Would you rather be out here with the cops?” Michael demanded. He dropped the minigun behind a parked car and switched to a rocket launcher; he had more conventional guns, of course, but those weren’t nearly as fun.

“Nah, I’m good—hey! Jerkoff! I never said you could stop, keep putting money in the bag!”

Gavin rushed out of the store, assault rifle in hand, and took Ryan’s place as Distraction Two. Ryan’s body had already disappeared; since being killed on a heist meant he was “out,” he’d meet them back at the safe house.

Most of the Fake AH Crew had an advantage when it came to gunfights and criminal life in general: they were immortal. They could definitely die, and on almost a daily basis at that, but they never stayed dead. When killed, their bodies would disappear, and they would reappear unharmed a short distance away. There was a chart in Geoff’s apartment with the longest times each crewmember had stayed alive; whoever had the longest time at the end of each month (usually Jack) got to plan a heist. Out of fairness, Ray didn’t compete, since he was the Crew’s sole mortal member. It was because of Ray’s mortality that Geoff had been reluctant to hire him in the first place, but his sniping skill had eventually convinced him otherwise.

Michael whooped ecstatically as his rocket blew up a whole line of cars, sending the police diving away in a panic.

Ray started talking again in his ear. “Hey, uh, could you maybe put this bag of Doritos in there too, I’m kinda hungry.”

“Seriously, Ray?” Jack asked, speaking for the first time in the past few minutes.

“Look, I may or may not have blazed beforehand and my stomach feels crazy empty right now. Yeah, the Cool Ranch ones. Thanks, man. How ‘bout I make sure we don’t hit your store again, that sound good?”

Jack sighed, and Michael knew she was shaking her head. “Could you try not to chat up the cashier?”

Gavin tripped over his own feet dodging gunshots from the LSPD, and Michael ran over to cover him. “You fucking idiot!” he yelled. “Fucking tripping over your own goddamn feet, we’re heisting here!”

Michael turned back to the police just in time to see one of them hoist a rocket launcher. It looked way lamer than his, the schmuck didn’t even paint it. He lifted his and fired, and in the rush of adrenaline from the explosion he only barely registered the cop’s rocket sail into the store.

“Oh sh—”

The ensuing explosion cut off Ray’s expletive and knocked Michael and Gavin off their feet. Michael scrambled up and grabbed Gavin, abandoning the scene and making a beeline for Jack’s car.

They dove in and shut the doors. “Go, Jack, go!” Gavin yelled. Jack pulled out, the tires screeching and the LSPD’s bullets dinging off the armored exterior. She drove like a maniac until the sound of sirens faded behind her.

“Where’s Ray?” she asked.

“He died, didn’t he?” Gavin said. “He was in the store when it… oh. Oh, god.”

“We forgot,” Michael whispered brokenly. “We fucking _forgot,_ we forgot he wouldn’t come back.”

“Shit,” Jack breathed. She drew back and punched the dashboard, denting it, before cupping her head in her hands.

“Maybe he survived,” Ryan said slowly, his voice crackling through the comms. “He could have been behind a shelf when the rocket went off.”

“Then we would have left him there, crushed under junk food or arrested by the police,” Jack snapped. “And I doubt they’re feeling merciful today.”

“We should get back to Geoff,” Gavin said. “And tell ‘im he’s gonna need a new sniper.”

— — — — — —

That night found the Fake AH Crew pacing aimlessly around Geoff’s apartment, each thinking of multiple ways they could have prevented Ray’s death, and each trying not to look at Ray’s things.

“I shouldn’t have done a decoy heist,” Geoff muttered as he passed Jack in the hallway.

“Shouldn’t’ve fucking yelled at Gavin,” Michael spat, slamming the bathroom door shut.

“Shouldn’t have bloody tripped,” Gavin sniffed, staring up at the ceiling of Geoff’s bedroom with tears in his eyes.

“I shouldn’t have died,” Ryan said morosely, huddled on the couch next to Jack. She gently rubbed his shoulders in sympathy.

As for Jack, she forced down every “I should have” with iron resolve. Eventually she would need to pull her boys back up from rock bottom, and she couldn’t be mired in her own grief when that happened. So she let Ryan cry on her shoulder, and said nothing when Geoff joined them, curling up on the couch with his head in her lap

And then the door opened.

“’Sup, nerds?” Ray said, closing the door behind him with his foot and brandishing a box of pizza. He froze, looking at the scene in front of him: the Gents a sobbing mess on the couch, Michael standing, stunned, in the kitchen. “I, uh… I brought food?”

Michael just about tackled him, his arms wrapped around Ray like a vise. “What the fuck, why didn’t you say anything you piece of shit,” he mumbled into Ray’s hoodie.

“Whoa, okay, I know I’m kind of late, but I had to get this pizza and then I checked like, five safe houses and they were all empty, so—”

“Ray, we thought you were dead,” Jack interrupted.

“You… what?”

“You died!” Geoff yelled. “In the fucking heist!”

“No I didn’t,” Ray said, confused. “I’m right here, I don’t come back like you guys do.” He tapped Michael on the back. “If you could stop crushing my ribs, man, that’d be great.”

Michael stepped back, just in time for Ryan to whip out a pistol and shoot Ray point-blank in the head. Ray’s body, and the pizza, fell to the floor accompanied by a stunned silence.

“WHAT THE FUCK, RYAN?” Michael roared.

“What?”

“YOU FUCKING KILLED RAY!”

Gavin finally ventured out of the bedroom to stare at Ray’s body. As he watched, it disappeared, leaving the pizza behind. “What… the hell?”

“Look, it was obvious by this point the death wouldn’t stick!”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU JUST SHOOT HIM IN THE HEAD WITHOUT SAYING A FUCKING WORD!”

“Boys,” Jack said sternly. They turned to look at her. “Can we wait until Ray gets back to continue this conversation?”

As soon as she said that, the door burst open and Ray charged in, shooting almost through the door in his haste to get back at Ryan. He stared at the bullet-ridden corpse until it disappeared, panting.

Jack looked over at Geoff, who sighed. “I’ll go intercept Ryan and take his weapons,” he said. He stepped over the pizza box and left.

“That wasn’t necessary, Ray,” Jack said, crossing her arms.

“Like hell it wasn’t,” Ray said. “Fucking headshotted me.”

“I’d like to see you try and say you’re not immortal now,” Michael said smugly.

“I’m not immortal, I still die,” Ray said.

“Cut the semantics bullshit, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Ryan trudged in, looking ready to commit murder, with Geoff behind him.

“Hey, Ryan,” Ray said, trying not to look nervous. “We cool?”

Ryan glared at him for a long moment. “... Yeah, sure. Cool.”

Gavin picked up the pizza box and opened it. “Aw, Ray, it’s gone all cold!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I got the pizza before checking all those safe houses.”

After a brief consideration, Gavin pulled out a piece of the pizza and took a bite. “Oh, that’s not bad.”

“I got bevs,” Michael said, going into the kitchen.

No more than five minutes later, the six of them were gathered in the living room around the box of cold pizza.

“So, Ray,” Ryan said. “How did you even remotely think you lived through an explosion like that?”

Ray shrugged. “It’s not like it’s the first time something like that’s happened.”

“Really?” Geoff asked.

“Yeah, like….” Ray sipped his Capri-Sun thoughtfully. “A couple years ago, this asshole mugged me, right? He hit me in the head and next thing I know I’m in the next alley over without my wallet and with dried blood crusted all over my head. I counted myself lucky I didn’t have a concussion or anything and got out of there before anyone else showed up. And then one of my earlier sniping jobs I fell off a roof, and I guess I thought I’d landed on a pile of pillows or something?”

“And it never occurred to you that those should have been fatal?” Ryan asked.

“Nah, I just thought I was crazy lucky.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Ray,” Michael said.

“Says the guy who thought breakdancing on the wings of a flying plane would be a good idea.”

“It totally would have worked if Gavin wasn’t a shitty flyer!”

“I’m the second best damn flyer in this room!” Gavin protested.

“Yeah, and you fucking crash constantly because you always try to do a barrel roll ten fucking feet off the ground.”

“How many times do you think you’ve died, Ray?” Jack asked.

Ray shrugged again, retrieving a slice of pizza. “I dunno, four or five times maybe?”

“I’m guessing it was easier to stay alive before Geoff hired you,” Ryan said.

“So much easier. Hey, speaking of dying though, does this mean I can add my name to the poster now? Because I’m pretty sure my last streak was like, six months so I get to plan the next heist.”

“You can’t retroactively win!” Geoff said. “Your run starts when you put your name up there, and not a second before that.”

Ray got up to search the drawers in the kitchen for a marker. When he found it, he sauntered over to the poster and wrote his name in overly fancy handwriting at the bottom. He grinned at his handiwork. He had been part of the Crew for months, but it wasn’t until now that he really felt like a member. And to be honest, it felt really fucking great.

He turned back to the others. “Let’s do something crazy,” he said.

**Author's Note:**

> I had an idea the other day about immortal FAHC Ray not realizing he's immortal despite clearly surviving fatal incidents, and decided to expand on it.
> 
> The original idea itself can be found near the bottom of [this post](http://anarchetypal.tumblr.com/post/128433868963/long-overdue-ask-roundup-what-the-fuck-you-fix). I highly recommend the rest of anarchetypal's headcanons as well, they're absolutely fantastic.


End file.
